


Polarized

by Beastrage



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: Knights of the Old Republic
Genre: Amnesia, Implied/Referenced Brainwashing, POV Second Person, Post Knights of the Old Republic, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-05
Updated: 2016-11-05
Packaged: 2018-08-29 05:26:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8477077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beastrage/pseuds/Beastrage
Summary: The Revanchist is dead. Long live the Revanchist.Revan was all fire and passion. No wonder Revan fell.You? You are all ice and holes. No wonder you cannot return to who you once were.





	

There is no middle ground.

You have gone too far for that. 

At least, that's what they say. 

You are Revan. That's what everyone says. But you know that's not quite true.

You are Revan, to be sure. But are you the Revan that mustered Jedi and Republic forces alike against Mandalore? The Revan that discovered the Star Forge with Malak at your side? The Revan who conquered the Republic, forming an empire of your own?

No, you're not that Revan. Not anymore. You read through the archives, searching for hints of the person behind Revan's mask. The face. You read of Malachor, of fighting the Mandalore and scattering his people. Nothing sounds familiar. It is the dry words of a historian, not fiery words of journalist. You read Republic files of the Sith invasions, of the turning of so many Republic soldiers and Jedi. Here, you find fire but it does not warm you.

You feel so very cold and you cannot get warm again.

There is something missing in you, that you hear of the past and cannot muster the memories that were there once. Cannot feel the fires of action. The Jedi Council, when they stole your memories, your past, it seems they stole your fire too. 

You should be dead. You're not. 

You walk through the galaxy, a breathing corpse. The Revanchist is dead. You are the Revanchist. 

You throw yourself into battle, companions like HK and Canderous eagerly following you. The others are more careful fighting, but only barely more so. 

Bastila is gone. You find yourself wondering if Malak (who you knew once, was friends with once, was master of once) has stolen her life, in payment for the dead past haunting his footsteps. But you know better. Malak is Sith, after all, and Sith adore power. And if Bastila has anything, it is power.

What a pair the two of you would make, the fallen Sith and the fallen Jedi. The Force trembles with darkness, with pain, between the two of you. 

An unnatural bond, a bond you cannot break, a bond to chain to the Jedi like a pet. A bond you don't want to break. 

You don't know what it's like to be a Jedi. But then, you don't know what it's like to be a Sith either.

The Jedi Council claims to have done this for your own good, for the greater good. To give you a second chance.

Is it a second chance, when the receiver neither asked nor looked for it? Is it for your own good, when the Jedi numbers are low and they cannot afford to lose any more members?  Is it the greater good, when you know from the archives and history, that they left the Outer Rims to suffer under Mandlorian conquest?

Even now, do you hate them? Hatred is fire, is coals, is embers. You are only ice. You feel for hate, for anger, but the emotions you grab are weak fill-ins for what you can observe of the Sith you face. No, you can't hate the Jedi, but you can't hate the Sith either.

And in the end, when the fighting is done, when Malak lies at your feet (a fallen enemy, a weak apprentice), your heart burns. He is nothing, perhaps, but you are less than what you were. You mourn, in the end, for the past. For the friend you cannot remember, the ally forever at your side, the man who broke under the Dark Side's forever weight. 

You mourn that you don't know how much he meant to you, in the end.

In the end, this victory, Jedi or Sith , Light or Dark, means nothing to you. For in the end, you are not Revan.

Because Revan, for all the failures, all the successes, died under the Force's sharpest blade.

Because you, for all your failures, all your successes, are born under the Force's sharpest blade.

The Revanchist is dead, but long live the Revanchist. 

In the end, you are the new Revan.


End file.
